Rounding Up and Herding Cats Cowboy Style

The Last Post

I like the irony of the title of this entry.  Perhaps I should have used it a couple of days ago.   It has been an interesting last couple of days.  Despite the fact that we have been here almost three weeks I’m not sure if I leave Turkey fully understanding what makes this country work.  There are many differences in the way people live from day to day and how they view the world that it’s been a difficult task to process it all and come to a definitive answer on why.  Quite simply, it works.  To say how it works,however, is hard to pinpoint…

We had a very interesting experience the other day.  With some free time up our sleeves, Garth (my NZ room-mate) and I thought we might catch a suburban train and tour some of the outer suburbs and try to immerse ourselves in a little more of the culture of the city.  Having boarded we were pleased to find the train relatively empty and were able to sit.  It was amazing to see how parts of the city had morphed from one time period to another.  The old city wall, which is hundreds of years old, snakes along the line which at times is broken by the presence  tenements and apartment and provides retaining walls for all manner of structures old and new.  Some of these ‘new’ apartment buildings look like demolitions waiting to happen and when you think that it has been condemned you are then surprised to find inhabitants in the second or third storeys…

Past a stop named Yedikule we saw what we initially thought was a enormous football crowd heading to a game.  Scarves flying, banners waving, fists in the air, etc.  As we scanned the crowd we noticed that this was not a sporting event but an organised protest of some kind for at each perimeter of the thronging mass we saw rows upon rows of riot police.  I said to myself “I’m glad I’m on this train and not down there in that crowd.  It didn’t matter because the crowd came to us.  At the next station the overflow of that particular demonstration piled onto the train and within seconds the train was packed like a sardine tin with chanting, fist waving rock throwing crowds made up mostly of men.  I’m not embarrassed to say that my sphincter shrunk to the size of a poppy seed.  Garth who I had seen only seconds earlier was lost to me on the other side of the train.  I felt quite vulnerable for only the first time whilst in Istandbul and wanted out.  At the next station I took the plunge, stood up and found my way to Garth.  I gave him a quick nod and said “We’re getting off”.  We shopped around at the mall that was nearby long enough to feel comfortable that the danger had abated and went home.  We later found out that we had found ourselves in the middle of one of the biggest Kurdish protests that is held every year.  When Metin found out where we had been his eyes popped out of his head.  We were told that these protests can get very dangerous with cars being torched, banks being broken into, etc.  All in all, an interesting story to tell people but if I had known what was in store I might have made another decision on our travel plans.

So, that’s it.  I hope you enjoyed the reports.  This has been a great life experience but next time I’ll be taking my wife. 

A pilgrim in a foreign land...



With tree growth ans time this is all that ius left of
untouched trenches near Conak Bair



I’m finding it hard to begin today’s post.  I suspect anything I write will not capture the emotional sentiment that one feels when visiting historical locations with such national significance.  From the outset I wondered what shape my patriotic response would take.  I have never been a dedicated observer of ANZAC day.  I appreciate the sacrifice that young men made with their lives but with such a huge increase of patriotic zeal and fervour in regard to this commemorative day, this was an opportunity for me to try and understand for myself the significance of 25 April 1915.  We toured a number of cemeteries on the peninsula that had special significance to Australia and NZ.  Our guide was excellent.  His historical knowledge of the war and of history in general was outstanding and his presentation style was both entertaining and informative. 



The cemetery at Lone Pine where over 5000 men
on both sides lost their lives on a very small peice of land
(about 90m between trenches).  In places, dead bodies lay 14
deep in the trenches.



One of the initial stops was ANZAC cove and for me, it took on a whole new meaning.  To see the cliffs first hand, in what appeared to be a very poor strategic position, was extraordinary.  With such narrow spaces to contend with, one can’t help but think that this was always going to be a difficult campaign for the Australians and New Zealanders.  The area had a haunting yet reverent atmosphere about it.  I felt something touch me but it wasn’t until I read the open letter from Mustafa Kemal (Ataturk), depicted on a large memorial in the cove, did I feel the strong poignancy of actually standing on these shores.

"Those heroes who shed their blood

And lost their lives...

You are now living in the soil of a friendly country.

Therefore, rest in peace.

There is no difference between the Johnnies

And the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side

Here in this country of ours.

You the mothers who sent their sons from far away countries,

Wipe away your tears.

Your sons are now living in our bosom

And are in peace.

Having lost their lives on this land they have

Become our sons as well”

                                                                                            Ataturk 1934

For me, Gallipoli means so much more to me now.  Not so much in terms of a greater patriotic feeling but in terms of the way it gave three nations their birthright.  Turkey view this campaign with such a reverential attitude for as our guide mentioned, Gallipoli was the birthplace of their independence and in many respects it shaped Australia and New Zealand’s identity in terms of their relationship with Great Britain.  Personally, I feel there is such a strong bond between the Turks and the ANZACS and the positive legacy of this shared struggle means that this type of exchange must continue.



A reflective moment at Anzac Cove.





Troy and Victory Day

Sorry for the double post but time is running away each day.

Thursday



This is situated in Cannakale city.  Froie and the movie 'Troy'
and donated byt the Japanese company that made it.



We rose early to board the 6.00am bus to Canakkale.  The drive out of the city seemed to take forever but eventually we reached the outskirts.  Treeless plains seemed to stretch to the horizon and intermittently the rural aspect was interrupted by more heavily built up areas that the locals refer to as ‘villages’.  We will show them what a village really looks like when they come over.  We stopped for breakfast at Tekidag and you can guess what was on the menu.  We seemed to be travelling well but we couldn’t determine how far away we were as the road signs indicating the distance to our destination seemed to change all the time.  Long straight stretches of road seemed to make it go faster.  We arrived in Canakkale and continued on to Troy having picked up our English speaking guide in the city.  Troy was quite a treat.  No doubt Brad Pitt and Eric Bana have done quite a bit to increase the romanticism of this place but it was a special place nonetheless.  We walked amongst ruins that are 5000 years old and I had to pinch myself a few times to remind myself of the significance of this historical site.



The Odeon at the ruins of Troy.  Patch is sitting where the king
would have sat.



We tracked back to Canakkale and arrived at our hotel (the Grand Anzac) and the teachers were relieved to be informed that they had their own rooms with all the trimmings.  It was quite a luxury for us although 852 TV channels of which about 842 were non-English was a bit much to bear.

Australia’s ambassador to Turkey, Ian Biggs, accepted our invitation for a visit and he was chuffed to meet the students.  I think he was of the opinion it was only to be a few students and was surprised to be talking to 30 of them. 

Friday

The huge monolith.  Look at the size of it
compared to the people on the ground.

We were informed early that today was going to be a long day.  It was a very long day but in many respects, worth the wait.  We travelled to the end of the peninsula where the Dardenelles strait lies.  The Turks have erected this gigantic monument which defies belief.  We didn’t know what to expect but we guessed it was going to be big because military security seemed to be stationed at every stop way along the peninsula road.  It seemed to be one big chaotic affair when we arrived with people heading in every possible direction.  The venue had so many uniformed military personnel of every persuasion that we began to wonder what was going to eventuate.  A long 4 ½ wait was what eventuated and the students were magnificent.  I think they defied their generation with the patience and fortitude they showed today.  After the wait we were treated to a show and a half.   The Turkish Prime minister arrived (by helicopter mind you) and gave his speech, we stood as the Turks sang their national anthem and then we all started moving off toward the monument.  What occurred next was surreal.  The crowd witnessed an awesome air show with helicopters and jets doing fly-bys and people generally walking around taking photos.  This is their Victory day but whereas on ANZAC day we pay tribute to the lives given, this means so much more to them.  This victory was in many respects the foundation of their struggle for independence.

One of the fly overs.  Maybe Dad can
tell us what they are?

 It is also clearly evident that they love Australians.  Whilst many were getting photos with old Turkish Mehmets dressed in traditional clothing, the most popular attraction was an Australian military dignitary who was attired in full military dress.  He was more popular than Mickey Mouse at Disneyland.  Talking with our Guide yesterday, he said that Australians were loved in this part of the world because of what they share at Gallipoli.  Both countries were compelled by other nations to fight their wars and because of this there is a strong affinity.  Apparently, for some particular commemoration, Australia and NZ were invited by Turkey to attend.  Great Britain wanted in on it and Turkey politely declined.  There is still some sentiment felt in that respect and I can understand why.  After all, to them, we were the invaders.

Tonight I was in for an unforgettable experience.  Metin’s team (Fenerbache) was playing Galatasaray (Harry Kewell and Lucas Neill’s team) and he secured some space at a café where they game was being shown live on TV.  Talk about passion.  It is not hard to get infected by it all and I took upng backi the Aussie team whilst Metin showed his one eye support for Fenerbache.  It was a game for the ages and I enjoyed every minute.  Fenerbache won 2-1 which was a good thing because at one stage Metin had picked up a chair and I thought he was gonna toss it.  And that was after his team scored a goal.  Not being a soccer fan, I could see why they are so passionate but give me AFL any day.

Yesterday post Today



This photo belies reality.  On either side of this frame is the city
of Istanbul, an unbelievable metropolis.



 This morning began with our customary wait.  Although our program is supposed to begin at 9.00 each morning, it never does.  They plan on the fly and it takes a little getting used to I must admit.  So what should have begun at 9.00 extended to 10.15 which meant that the ferry we were supposed to catch for the Tour of the Bosphorus, we missed.  With more delays at the school we missed the following one also.  Anyhow, we eventually boarded at 12 midday and departed for the tour.  Because of our tardy beginning, we were given the shorter tour which disappointed me because we were originally going to be heading to the black sea and get out at some fishing village.  It was a nice tour of the river in spite of its brevity and we were surprised by the number of river frontage properties that had their own swimming pools.  There is some wealth in Istanbul, let me assure you of that. 

        In the afternoon I went for a walk down to Sultanahmet square.  It seems that the busy day is Sunday because it seemed quieter than I had noticed before.  I am continually astonished by the number of stores that have one guy standing out the front, about 3-4 more inside and hardly any customers.  They also seem to be on their mobile phones quite a lot, probably bragging to their mates in another store “Hey Hamit, I have had 2 customers today, I might go home early!”.

Part of the Roman aquaduct that spans a small part
of the city.

       Took an evening stroll to a Roman aqueduct near where we are staying and it was well worth the walk.  The Romans certainly knocked form and function on the head and I was able to get some very good photos with it all lit up.  On our way back, Garth wanted to take the back streets.  I haven’t felt unsafe at any point here but I was a little more wary and while Garth was dragging his feet, mine were moving a little faster.  I thought to myself, this is probably how the ANZACS lost Gallipoli, and all this time we blamed the British.

       We have an early departure in the morning to make our way to Canakkale and Gallipoli so I better sign off and get about 4 ½ hours sleep as it is now 12.30am.

Palaces, palaces...

Domlabache palace. When I heard we were heading to another palace I must admit the eyes almost rolled into the back of my head. We were stunned by the beauty of Topkapi, how would this compare to that? Well in many respects it showed a new side of sultanate splendour. After donning our plastic slippers, we entered the first room. This architecturally French inspired palace was the epitome of the word ‘big’. Here the sultans took residence from the mid 1800’s and in 1923 when the country became a republic it was home to Turkey’s revolutionary messiah Mustafa Kemal (Ataturk) and became the place where he died. It has become Turkish folklore that the clocks inside the palace were all stopped at 9.05am, the time of his death. There is quite a posthumous cult of personality when it comes to Ataturk. You cannot go anywhere without seeing some kind of representation of him somewhere.



Front entrance to Dolmabache palace.



The reception halls we saw were quite big and we were fascinated by the grandness of it all but our jaws dropped to the floor when we were taken into the grand hall. This was massive! Hanging in the centre of the room was a 4½- tonne crystal chandelier, apparently given as a gift to the sultan of the time by Queen Victoria.

It appeared that we were given the reader’s digest tour as a school group because there were other parts that we were not allowed to see. Lots of security here and we were not allowed to take any photos inside.

Spent the afternoon walking around the spice bazaar again. I really like it there, more casual and with such a wide range of goods. Lots of spice shops, Turkish delight, any type of tea you want (even found a banana tea), cheeses, trinkets, and so on.

Ayasofya at night.  Took me 27 goes to get this shot.

Spent the evening being wined and dined (without the wine for me of course) in a restaurant in Taksim. It was a very stately affair and I was kicking myself because I had a nap in the afternoon and wasn’t told that the principal and some other school officials were going to be there so while everyone was dressed up here I am in jeans, t-shirt and jumper. I felt a little out of place but as is the Turkish way, no-one made me feel uncomfortable. The food? I won’t bore you with the details but it was magnificent. As I sat there on the top floor of a restaurant overlooking the lights of the city I started to feel like a fish out of water. I began to realise that this must be how the other half live and was it only a couple of days ago that we saw the poor side of Istanbul and kids running through the slums. The extremes are here like in any city but perhaps they are a little closer together in Australia and NZ.



Turkish Guards performing a march at Domabache Palace.



After dinner, I couldn’t help but take a look at the bill. About 1400TL ($1000AUD) which I guessed worked out to 120TL a head. Perhaps that is reasonable for any city but I think it was still too rich for my liking. Nevertheless, I was thankful. Money seems to be thrown in the school’s direction quite a bit. I spoke to Metin about his boarding house budget and he told me his budget for the year was 500,000,000 TL which works out to be $334,000,000AUD. About half is paid by the government and half by the parents. My vegies almost flew off my plate. When I heard this I felt better about the meal thinking that perhaps this is just a blip on their financial seismograph so I ordered the expensive dessert.

My Favourite Day



The beautiful marina on Prince's Island



Today was T-Shirt weather.  It’s hard to believe that just a few days ago we were layered up to the eyeballs in winter clothing and today we had T-Shirts and sunglasses.  Today our hosts sent us to Prince’s Island, one of eight islands off the south coast of Istanbul in the Marmara Sea.  It took about an hour on the ferry and our guide informed us that we were getting off on the fourth island.  The sea was a millpond today and the ferry ride was smooth and gentle. 

A peacefully surreal experience at the top of the hill

On these islands, there are no cars and people get around either on foot, bicycle or horse and cart.  I was looking forward to being away from the city and as we looked back to the mega-tropolis, the evident haze of pollution was quite alarming.  We got off the ferry and immediately noticed that whilst the Turks consider these islands as holiday destinations, each was a mini city of its own.  One cannot escape the amount of product and stock small businesses carry to service their customers.   As I stood at the wharf entrance I felt relaxed when all of a sudden, splat, a significant amount of thick liquid had hit my shoulder.  It felt as though someone’s ice-cream had fallen out of its cone and landed right on me.  Let me tell you something, Turkish seagull crap, smells, looks and feels just like Australian

 seagull crap.  I just closed my eyes, took off my jacket, washed it with the water in my drink bottle and packed it in my bag.  I just thought to myself that this day can only get better.  It did.  We were treated to a bounteous lunch of chicken kebabs served on a bed of rice, dips, fresh bread, fresh salad, pickled peppers and a cold drink.  I was stuffed.



It was great to ride through these streets with no cars.



 I took the opportunity to work lunch off by hiring a bike for 5 lira (about AUD3.50) for one hour.  It was awesome just riding around the island going wherever I wanted and no helmet required.  I climbed the highest peak I could (Think Sandy Bay – Mount Nelson) and got a great view of the other side of the island.  At the top of the hill there were horses grazed amongst the trees untethered and nearby was a huge fenced and gated property.  Think the house in Psycho and times it by 100.  Not sure whether this was an old orphanage, sanatorium or hospital but it was quite spooky and looked as if it had been condemned for years.  I’m kicking myself that I didn’t get any photos of the place.  I coasted down the hill and was charmed by the old world feel that this place had and loved touring at will on two wheels.  My hour ended quickly and so we soon boarded the ferry back to the city.

In the evening I took time to take some night shots down at Sultanahmet square being dazzled by the splendour of the Blue Mosque and Ayasofya at night.  I’m sure if Blanche was here she would have done better with the camera because when I use it I feel like such a rookie.